A Most Illogical Christmas
by goodnightnathan
Summary: Plagued by the affections of a young officer, McCoy decides he'll spare her feelings and pretend to be married...to Spock. Spock agrees, as he's decided to explore the concepts of favors and Christmas spirit, against his logical senses. (cue Kirk giggling in the background) Spones fluff, only rated T for language
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Dr. McCoy had just turned the corner when he glimpsed her down the hall, all smiles and bouncy blonde curls. Beth Morris's snub nose crinkled in a smile, creases forming around her blue eyes, the same color as her dress. Then those blue eyes widened in excitement. Muttering curses, McCoy ducked into Sickbay, but it was too late. She had spotted him.

"Doctor!" she squeaked, waving emphatically.

McCoy sighed and leaned back out into the corridor. "Hello, Lieutenant Morris."

The young woman positively glowed as she flounced into Sickbay. If she smiled any harder, the apples of her cheek were liable to burst. "I told you before, I insist you call me Beth," She sobered. "Oh, but of course, you're just trying to be professional. I see."

McCoy offered a tight smile. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?"

"I…I have some forms for you to sign," Morris replied.

"Okay."

Silence.

"Well?"

Morris's smile slid away in an instant. She closed her eyes and turned away dramatically, her blonde curls bobbing about her shoulders. McCoy rolled his eyes.

"I suppose there's no need to deny it anymore." She spun back around, her eyes sparkling with tears. "I think it's time we face our feelings for each other."

McCoy blinked. "Our what?"

"Oh, don't play innocent. I've seen the way you look at me." She took a step closer, and he took a step back. "I've only been here for two weeks, and I have never felt such vibes off a person in my life." She took a few more forceful steps, and the doctor retreated, smacking into a wall and scrunching back as far as possible. "Don't deny you love me!" Morris insisted.

McCoy opened his mouth to object, but Morris snapped a finger over his lips to silence him. "No, wait, don't say anything. Let's just savor the moment."

Morris's bright purple eyelids squinted closed, her eyebrows crinkled together, and her free hand clutched to her heart in the heat of passion. Seconds passed in silence.

"I hate to break it to you," McCoy's words were muffled from behind Morris's finger, "but only one of us is having a moment."

Morris furrowed her brow as she withdrew the finger. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…I don't…we aren't…" he stammered.

With every word, Morris's face grew more crestfallen. Her crystalline eyes brimmed with tears and her lower lip trembled.

McCoy sighed. Cursing his soft heart, he swallowed and grasped for a believable lie. "You're a very nice girl, don't get me wrong, but I'm…ah…involved with someone else."

Morris nodded her understanding. But then her eyes lit up again, the corner of her mouth turned up into a sneaky grin. "Space can be lonely, though… Nobody has to know." She said with a wink.

"Well! As…_tempting_ as that sounds, I…well, see, the 'someone else' is…_on_ the ship." McCoy stuttered.

"Oh…that would complicate things."

"Yes, and I'm _very_ happy. I wouldn't want to ruin that." McCoy added quickly before Morris could think up another scheme.

"So…who is this special someone? And exactly _how_ involved are you?" Morris's face evolved into yet another expression—suspicion.

McCoy cleared his throat. His palms had suddenly grown damp. Was it hot in here? Morris's skeptical glare continued to burn into his eyes. _Think, think, say something_.

"I-I'm…married! Yes! It was very recently. We didn't want anyone to make a fuss about it…you understand, don't you?"

"Oh, I understand, alright," Morris's eyes narrowed. "But you still haven't told me who your significant other _is_."

As McCoy fumbled to thread another string into his web of lies, a miracle happened. A green-blooded, pointy-eared _miracle_ just happened to walk through the door at precisely that moment. McCoy had never been so glad to see Spock in his life.

"Spock! I've never been so glad to see you in my life!"

Spock tilted his head slightly.

"Well, Lieutenant Morris, I clearly have some very important business to attend to, so I'll just have to…take a rain check on this discussion." McCoy shepherded her to the door.

"Oh, okay, Dr. McCoy," Morris had now adopted a smarmy, knowing smile. Gone was the accusation. Gone was the sob perched on her lip. She leaned close to the doctor's ear and whispered, "Why didn't you just say so?"

McCoy gave her an inquisitive look. She smiled again and nodded discretely in Spock's direction, her eyebrows lifting a few times.

Oh.

There were several options McCoy could have chosen. Practically innumerable, in fact. All he had to do was choose one.

He chose the worst.

"You got me," he whispered with a wink.

Morris's nose scrunched again with a tiny smile. She swung out the door, her golden curls flying behind her. McCoy leaned back against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief.

"What exactly has Lieutenant Morris 'got,' Doctor?" Spock asked.

McCoy's eyes slid to Spock, who was waiting impatiently, three feet away. "Oh damn, you're still here."

"How astute of you to notice."

A corner of McCoy's mouth turned down in a grimace. "What did you want?"

"It can wait. I have the distinct suspicion—"

"Don't tell me you have a feeling."

"—that you were talking about me." Spock plowed through his sentence, ignoring the doctor's attempts to frustrate him—or distract him? One slanted eyebrow quirked accusingly.

McCoy took a preliminary breath, prepared to make up more excuses, but he released it with a defeated sigh. "Okay, I may have made a little…mistake."

"And you've chosen to involve me in your error."

"Well that's mistake number one on my list, for sure." McCoy rubbed his forehead. "I can't believe I did that. Why did I do that?"

"What did you do?" Spock persisted.

"I may have insinuated to Morris that I was married so she'd leave me alone, and she may have assumed I was merphh…" McCoy buried his final words into the side of his hand as he looked at the floor.

"You were what?"

"I was…uh…"

"Yes?"

"She thinks I'm married to you! Okay?"

Spock's eyes widened to a dangerously emotional level. "How did she come to that conclusion?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. But listen, you can't tell her the truth. _No one_ can tell her the truth." McCoy punctuated his command with a threatening finger pointed toward Spock. Spock regarded it with a dismissive glance.

"I do not see the point in continuing a farfetched lie."

"Dammit, Spock, I just don't want to hurt her feelings! But of course you wouldn't know anything about that. There's no treading lightly with Vulcans."

"I simply cannot understand how misleading someone preserves their feelings," Spock said, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

McCoy rolled his eyes. "There's no use trying to explain it to you. Look, I don't ask a lot from you—"

"Only to indulge your emotional tirades."

"Yeah, well I have to deal with your infuriating _logic_ all the time, so I think we're pretty even. Just…one favor is all I'm asking."

Spock stifled a sigh. Though he personally couldn't wrap his brain around the concept of sympathetic deception, it did seem important to the doctor. Perhaps this was the logical conclusion, based on flawed _human_ logic, of course. And perhaps Morris would be happier living in ignorance, since her happiness was clearly McCoy's goal.

"I will at least hear the request," Spock agreed.

A faint smile appeared on McCoy's lips for just a moment. "Just pretend for a while that we _are_…you know. Eventually she'll move on and forget all about it."

Spock stared at McCoy for a long time. "You are confident in that assumption?"

"Fairly, yes. Who really knows with Morris? She's kinda fickle."

"That character trait would be an advantage to us."

McCoy raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You'll…you'll do it?"

Spock half-nodded, half-shrugged. "It is only temporary."

"Believe me, a few days, a week tops. I don't know if I could stand to be around you for much longer than that."

"Agreed."

"One more thing,"

"Yes?"

"No one breathes a word to Jim."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Well, if it isn't the happy couple. Enjoying wedded bliss?" Kirk grinned as he joined Spock and McCoy in the mess hall the next morning. Sliding his tray of slightly greyish reconstituted eggs onto the table, he dragged up a chair and sat with his hands folded on the table.

"You told him. I told you not to tell him," McCoy accused, glaring at Spock from across the table.

"I didn't tell him," Spock replied.

"The walls have ears, Bones," Kirk said, "So who wants to try and explain this one?"

McCoy sighed and covered his face with his hands. Kirk turned his smile to Spock, whose face resembled something close to resignation.

"Dr. McCoy has conceived a lie in order to spare the feelings of a young Lieutenant Morris," Spock explained.

The captain let out an incredulous laugh. "You, Bones? You told her you were married to _him_? I don't believe that for a second."

"Oh, no, no…" McCoy took his hands away from his face. "I told her I was married to someone on the ship. She assumed the rest all by herself."

"And you didn't correct her?"

"Well…no," McCoy grumbled into his coffee. "What was I supposed to do? Convince someone else to play along? I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't have a lot of friends. Anyway, it's too late now."

"You two are in way over your heads. It's hard to keep a secret on a starship, you know," Kirk said.

"I did not anticipate that the rumor would spread so rampantly," Spock mentioned, tapping his chin with a finger in thought.

"I guess I thought she'd keep it to herself," McCoy mumbled.

"Well, gentlemen, I wish you good luck," Another laugh escaped as Kirk got up from the table. "Honestly, I'm looking forward to seeing how this works out. And I've got planning to do. What _ever_ will I get you for your anniversary?"

"I think you're enjoying this a little too much," McCoy scowled.

"Yes. Yes, I think I am." Kirk pranced away, giggling softly to himself.

"Well," Spock said, leaning his elbows on the table, "I suppose this concludes the charade."

"What am I supposed to do? Just tell her it was a lie? The whole point was to avoid hurting her feelings," McCoy replied.

"You seem to be forgetting, Doctor, that Lieutenant Morris is a Starfleet officer. She is qualified to handle high-stress situations. I am sure she would rise to the occasion." Spock punctuated his remark with the quirk of an eyebrow.

"I'm awfully sorry for trying to be nice. I guess you wouldn't understand that kind of thing," McCoy said as he pushed back his chair, "So consider this a divorce."

Spock remained silent as he watched the doctor shuffle away. Funny. He thought he was being nice to Dr. McCoy by agreeing to be a part of the scheme. It was completely illogical; therefore, it must have been nice. It was possible Spock had miscalculated the extent of favors. It was something to re-evaluate later.

sss

"Damn it!" McCoy spluttered as he ran face-first into a low-hanging streamer.

"Oops! Sorry, Doctor, it must have slipped," Christine Chapel rushed to the banner with a roll of tape in hand.

"Nurse Chapel…what have you done to my Sickbay?"

Chapel looked around with pursed lips. "I decorated. Christmas is just around the corner, you know."

"I suppose it is," McCoy said, "But what if there was some kind of medical emergency? This place is a mess!"

Chapel frowned, hands on hips. "Maybe if someone would give me a _hand_?"

McCoy sighed. "I'm sorry, Christine. Let's just say I'm not in the holiday mood."

Chapel's face softened. "I understand. Everyone gets the Christmas blahs every now and again. Especially on a starship. Hold my tape?"

McCoy accepted the roll as Chapel stepped onto a stool to tackle the drooping streamer. He had to admit, she did make the place look festive.

"Can I ask a question?" he asked.

"Fire away," she replied, voice muffled by the thumb tacks between her teeth.

"Would you ever lie to protect someone?"

Chapel pondered for a moment, twisting a tack between her fingers. "Yes, I suppose I would, if it were really necessary."

"Even if the person didn't really need protecting?"

"I guess that's a little different. I'd wonder about my motivation."

"Well, suppose you just wanted to be nice."

Chapel turned to face the doctor with a suspicious grin. "Is this about Beth Morris?"

McCoy nearly choked. "How the hell do you know about that?"

"There isn't much I don't know around here. You know who people gossip to? The friendly nurse. It doesn't hurt to ask a few innocent questions."

McCoy looked up at Chapel with a mixture of awe and surprise. "I didn't know you were so devious."

"Thank you," Chapel smiled as she turned back to the banner. "So tell me what kind of lie you contrived."

"Ah, so you don't really know everything."

"I know that she was practically tripping over herself looking for excuses to come in here. I can't imagine what would cause a person to be so head-over-heels."

"Thanks."

"You know what I mean. And then I passed her in the corridor last night, and she seemed a little dejected to me."

"I was going to tell her the truth, but she just looked so…sad. So I told her I was married," the doctor said sheepishly.

Chapel barked a laugh. "You didn't really?"

"I did. It's ridiculous, I know. But that's not even the end of it."

"_Wait_," Chapel whirled around, nearly toppling the stool and herself with it. "Please tell me this is not the origin of the rumor."

"Rumor?" McCoy looked startled from the nurse's outburst.

"It's so preposterous I don't even want to repeat it," Chapel's eyes shifted to the wall. "You see, the rumor is that you are either married or dating—I've heard both—married or dating…"

"Spock?"

"_You did not tell her that_."

"I didn't!" McCoy said quickly, "He walked in, and she just assumed for some reason. Don't ask me why. Now tell me: _Why_ have you heard this rumor? Why has anyone heard? It's been one day. I don't understand."

"Big ship, small community," Chapel said, eyes wide. "I'm sorry, I just can't believe this is an actual thing that's happening."

"_Nothing_ is happening. It's just a stupid rumor. I'm going to tell Morris the truth."

"Good."

"But how can I do that?" McCoy said, flustered, "I don't want her to distrust me."

"So you want to sacrifice your pride to spare your pride," Chapel pointed out.

"Well…I didn't think about it that way. I don't know. Maybe she'll just forget about it eventually."

"Believe me, no one will ever forget a rumor like that."

"This is all becoming really complex," McCoy muttered.

Chapel stepped down from the stool. "Oh, what a tangled web we weave, indeed."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Spock was neck-deep in research when he heard the signal at his door.

"Come in,"

McCoy stepped a few feet inside. All he saw were several gigantic stacks of books, no sign of Spock.

"Uh…Spock?"

"I'm right here, Doctor."

McCoy, standing on tiptoe, could just make out the top of that stupid bowl-cut from behind the great wall of literature. Several open books littered the desk, but Spock was focused on the computer screen, his eyebrows so furiously furrowed that the space between them was a million creases.

"If you're here to apologize, it isn't necessary," he said without looking up.

McCoy crossed his arms but held back a sigh. "What a relief. What are you doing?"

Spock finally turned to face the doctor. "I have been conducting thorough research on the concept of favors. From what I've gathered, they are usually done without complaint. It seems you were right. I don't fully understand what it is to be 'nice.'"

McCoy blinked a few times. "I was…right?"

"Yes."

"Hm. Well, when you're right, you're right," McCoy mumbled. "Why are you so interested in being nice? That isn't very _logical_ of you."

Spock pondered the question for a moment, his head tilted to one side. It reminded McCoy of a dog he'd had once. The ears were a lot alike too.

"The concept of 'Christmas spirit' has always eluded me, as many aspects of human behavior. However, my mother and the majority of the crew seem to value it. I have endeavored to explore the idea," Spock said.

"You want to learn about Christmas spirit?" McCoy laughed, shaking his head. Then he sobered a bit. "Alright…how about granting another favor to someone who hasn't paid back the first?" Even as he said it, he kicked himself. Leave it to him to get in the situation where he had to ask Spock for a favor not once, but twice.

"The idea that favors must be repaid goes against the very definition of the word," Spock mused, perplexed. He looked up. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, it's very similar to the last favor. The same, actually."

"Hm," Spock stood, collecting books. "You are looking to cancel the fake divorce of our fake marriage. I take it you decided to not tell Lieutenant Morris the truth."

"I was _going_ to," McCoy began, rocking back and forth on his feet, "but then I thought about how she wouldn't trust me again, but _then_ I realized that if I don't set this right, we're never going to live it down. And still, I really don't want to hurt her feelings all over again."

"So?"

"So I'll tell her the truth…_after_ Christmas."

"Is this significant?" Spock asked after a brief pause.

"It's a holiday. It'll be better to let her enjoy it first."

"I don't see how it matters whether she knows now or later."

McCoy let out an exasperated sigh. "Listen here, you cold-blooded computer, I don't know if you knew this, but Christmas is supposed to be damned joyful and _I'm_ not going to be the one to ruin it. You wanna know what Christmas spirit is? Not being a jackass."

Spock nodded thoughtfully. "Very well. I don't see any reason to cause more emotional harm than necessary."

"Good."

"I do have a question."

"What?"

"How do we convince the lieutenant that we are married?"

McCoy winced. He hadn't thought this through. At all. Even the thought of someone _else_ marrying Spock made him feel very, very tired. And a little nauseated.

"The key is to be convincing but not disgusting," he said, "We just have to hint at it."

"And how do we do that?" Spock reiterated.

McCoy crossed his arms again and shrugged. "Hell if I know. It's been a while since I've been married."

"Perhaps we could use some advice."

"No, no, no, definitely not. Are you crazy?"

"No. What do you suggest?"

"Well…everyone knows you're not a…very _expressive_ person, so they won't expect you to act out of character. Maybe we just need to…I don't know…spend more time together?"

"It seems logical."

"Thank you."

An uneasy silence followed.

McCoy cleared his throat. "I find it a little hard to believe that there are that many books about favors."

"It is quite a complex and expansive topic, in theory."

"In theory?"

"In practice, it becomes a simple process. Although I suppose there are still complicated underlying themes: both parties' attitudes towards each other, previous favors both requested and received, the extent of the request, et cetera. However, one element that circumvents all other factors of the favor-granting system is kindness. It is not a logical phenomenon, but it does…simplify the process. I am attempting to understand the reasons behind this," Spock glanced behind him at the piles of books, "There doesn't seem to be a consensus in the scientific community," he grumbled.

McCoy smirked. "I think you're looking for answers in the wrong places."

As he left, he peeked over his shoulder to see a puzzled Spock muttering to himself and grabbing for more books.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Hold it!"

Spock held the door of the turbolift and peered out. McCoy was rushing down the hall.

"Thanks," he said as he slipped inside.

A few seconds passed in silence.

"I must confess I don't know what the captain needs from us," Spock mentioned.

"Probably some life-threatening mission, as usual," McCoy grumbled.

More silence.

"Are we going to discuss—" Spock began.

"Everyone on the ship has heard the rumor, I know. And they believe it, for some inexplicable reason. Jim is probably up there giggling to hims— Oh no…"

"What?"

"He did this on purpose. Last Christmas, _they hung mistletoe_ in the doorway on the bridge. _Fuck_."

Spock lifted his eyebrows. "I don't believe that is the custom."

Of all the expressions of horror the doctor had made over the course of their mission, this one was unprecedented and most likely could never be reproduced.

"It's a figure of _speech_—_never mind_," McCoy choked out.

"What should we do?"

"I don't know! Why am I the man with the answers all the sudden? I thought that was your job."

Spock leaned against the wall of the turbolift. Was he expected to have all the answers? He didn't have any now. Obviously, it was still important to Dr. McCoy to keep up the charade. Spock had struggled with that fact from the very beginning, but he'd made a promise, and he intended to keep it. It seemed their only option was to cleave to tradition.

"I have an answer, but I don't think you'll like it," he finally said.

McCoy groaned into his hands. "Maybe no one will notice." He sneaked a glance at Spock, who shook his head. They would definitely notice, and it would fuel the fire of the rumor all over the ship.

The turbolift stopped.

The doors opened.

James Tiberius Kirk turned in his chair to face them.

Bastard.

Sure enough, a sprig of mistletoe hung nonchalantly from the doorway, taunting them. McCoy swallowed. There were only a few people on the bridge, but it felt like there were a thousand, all eyes on him. How long had they been standing there? A few years?

He cautiously turned his glance toward Spock. Before he realized what was happening, Spock had pressed a quick kiss on his lips and rushed away as fast as possible. McCoy just stood there, dumbfounded, for a few seconds. He could've sworn he saw a twinge of green in Spock's cheeks. That's when he realized his own face was on fire.

The few crew members on the bridge stared holes into their respective view screens, holding in their smiles. But not Kirk.

As McCoy drifted down the steps to stand by the captain's chair, Kirk turned that cheery grin upon him.

"That was cute."

"Shut up."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

For the rest of the day, McCoy was a hard man to find. Spock was beginning to think the doctor was avoiding him. How were they supposed to keep up appearances if they were never together? Of course, Spock had to remember emotions. Even he had to admit he was somewhat embarrassed by the…mistletoe incident. The prospect of undoing the mess they'd created was looking more and more difficult by the day.

It was time they had another discussion. McCoy was going to have to tell Morris the truth eventually. Whether it was before or after Christmas was irrelevant. Spock could never understand "Christmas spirit." It was too illogical a concept to grasp.

"Doctor, I think we should…" Spock began as he entered sickbay. To his confusion, Nurse Chapel was the only person there.

"If you're looking for Dr. McCoy, he's not here," she said.

"Where is he?"

"No idea. Hiding somewhere, most likely," A twitch of a smile played on her lips.

"Hiding?"

Chapel nodded. "Honestly, Mr. Spock, he blurred through a little while ago, and I have never seen him so flustered in my life. I heard what happened," She raised her eyebrows, not hiding her smile this time.

"Ah," was all Spock could muster.

"I think it's very sweet of you," Chapel said quickly, "You know, agreeing to all of this. I'm not sure if the doctor is really helping Lieutenant Morris by doing it, but I guess it's the thought that counts."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's just an old saying. It means good intentions matter more than the outcome."

"Interesting," Spock murmured incredulously, "Thank you,"

She looked confused. "For what?" But he was already gone.

sss

McCoy stood alone in the empty boardroom. They didn't use it much. It was mostly for crisis situations involving ambassadors, diplomats, and the like. At the moment, it was dark. The floor-to-ceiling windows displayed a blur of star streaks.

"I didn't expect to find you here," Spock's voice came from the doorway.

"That was kind of the idea."

He could sense Spock standing beside him, but he didn't turn.

"The captain once told me you preferred to pretend you weren't in space."

"Did he,"

"Does it frighten you?"

"It's terrifying."

"So why are you looking at it?"

McCoy sighed. He didn't say anything for a minute. Spock thought he'd never answer, but eventually he muttered, "It's terrifying, but it's still pretty to look at."

Spock pondered that for a few seconds. "I realize we've been put into an…awkward situation. I was going to suggest, again, that we discontinue it, but you've made it clear that isn't an option. I don't fully understand why you'd put yourself through this for the sake of one person's fleeting emotions, but…I respect you for it."

McCoy looked at him, somewhat startled.

"For what it's worth," Spock continued, "I feel I understand you better."

McCoy nodded solemnly. "I think I can say the same for you."

"Christmas is in two days. That isn't much time."

"No," McCoy agreed, "but I have the feeling it'll take a lot longer than that to convince everyone that this was all a lie." He smirked. Spock felt a little relieved at the gesture.

"I suppose I will see you later?"

"Yeah,"

Maybe Christmas spirit was too difficult to grasp, but kindness was becoming easier.

sss

"I apologize," Kirk said. Once again, he joined Spock and McCoy in the mess hall. They shared a look as the captain sat down.

"Apologize?" McCoy said innocently, "For what?"

"Seriously, I'm sorry. I just…I didn't actually think you'd do it."

"It would've been inefficient not to," Spock pointed out, "For the sake of the charade."

"I guess so. Of course, I'd never expect you to do anything halfway, Spock," Kirk grinned.

"Can we not talk about this all night?" McCoy insisted.

"Alright, alright," Kirk said. He opened his mouth to continue, but that's when she came in. Beth Morris flounced into the mess hall, her normal cheery self, and plopped right down next to the doctor.

"Hello, everyone! I hope you don't mind me intruding. So, Doctor, did you have a lovely day?" She beamed.

McCoy cleared his throat. Kirk chuckled into his glass. McCoy kicked his foot under the table and Kirk spluttered. Morris side-eyed him but still waited for a response.

"Sure, lovely," McCoy mumbled.

"Well I'm glad. I myself have had a lovely day as well. How about you, Mr. Spock? Lovely day?"

"It was…adequate," Spock managed. It was never clearer that Morris was of another species. She was bewildering.

"Well, I'll just be going, then. Good evening, everyone. Captain,"

Kirk nodded in her direction. After she was gone, he tilted his head. "Interesting young woman. She'd be perfect for you, Bones. Why'd you turn her down?"

"I'll fight you right now if you don't shut up."

Kirk laughed. Even Spock smiled a bit.

McCoy shook his head. "What did I do to deserve the two of you?"

"Something very good. We're a delight, aren't we?" Kirk elbowed Spock.

"Indubitably,"

"You pretentious ass," McCoy muttered, but he smiled. Spock raised an eyebrow. A smile and an insult were usually indicative of two distinct emotions.

Weren't they?


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"You coming to the Christmas party, Spock?" Kirk asked as he strode up beside Spock in the hall.

"Not likely, Captain."

"No?" Kirk grinned, "No wild parties on Vulcan?"

"Quite the opposite," Spock said, "Jim, are you…messing with me?"

"Yes, I'm messing with you. I've got to hand it to you, Spock, you're starting to catch on. You've been hanging around Bones too much. He'll bring out your human side if you're not careful."

Spock looked as aghast as possible. "Then let us be grateful Christmas is tomorrow."

Kirk laughed. "I guess I won't be saving you any eggnog. See you around,"

sss

The bridge consisted of a skeleton crew that night. The Christmas party was quite a hit; it usually spilled into several rooms across an entire deck. Only a handful of crew members had no interest in the festivities. Spock was one of them.

He knew the perils of visiting the party deck, but unfortunately, he'd left some very important forms in one of the research labs. He'd asked himself _how_ _important_ at least a dozen times since he'd gotten on the turbolift, but he'd finally concluded it was inevitable.

Spock took a deep breath and stepped out into the hall. Surprisingly quiet. He could faintly hear music and laughter through the walls, but his path was clear. Good. Just a quick trip from there.

Well, it would've been, if he hadn't turned the corner.

McCoy fell, quite literally, right into his arms.

"Whoops,"

"Doctor? What are you doing?" Spock tried in vain to get McCoy back on his feet, but he just wobbled.

"Oh, you know, jussst…" he trailed off.

"Are you drunk?"

"What? Noooo, of course not. Jus' getting into the Christmas spirit," He fell forward once again.

"I think you've had enough spirits for the evening," Spock decided, taking McCoy's arm around his shoulders.

McCoy studied him carefully for a moment. "Was that a pun?"

Spock stopped suddenly. "Perhaps I have spent too much time with you."

By that time, the doctor wasn't paying much attention. "Shhhh, listen. Do you hear that?"

Spock sighed as he tried to drag McCoy along. "I hear a lot of things. There is a party going on."

"No, no, that…_humming_,"

"That's just the ship. It always makes that sound."

"Are we on a _ship_?"

If this was Christmas spirit, Spock didn't want any of it.

Somehow, they made it to McCoy's quarters in one piece. Spock tried to lay him down as gently as possible, but it wasn't easy. McCoy seemed to have forgotten that he possessed feet.

"Do you think you'll be okay if I leave now?" Spock asked, kneeling next to the bed.

"Sure, sure," McCoy mumbled, "Oh wait, I just remembered."

"What?"

"Well…never mind."

Spock tried his best to not look exasperated. "Are you going to tell me or not?"

"I would, but it's a secret."

"Perhaps it would be best not to divulge secrets while you're…incapacitated," Spock said. He pulled the covers up over McCoy's shoulders. "Go to sleep. You can tell me when you're thinking more clearly."

McCoy nodded. "You're a good friend, Spocko," He reached out like he was going to pat Spock's shoulder, but he missed, his arm dangling over the edge of the bed uselessly.

"I'll try to remember that," Spock stood up to leave, but McCoy grabbed his sleeve.

"Hang on. I feel like…in a past life…were we married or something?"

Spock almost smiled. He couldn't believe humans would voluntarily impair their reasoning like this. It was ridiculous.

"That's more of the present life."

"Really?"

"No. It's just pretend. You remember Lieutenant Morris."

"Oh yeah… Are you sure?"

"I'm quite sure, Doctor, now I really need to get back to the bridge. Try to get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Yeah, yeah," McCoy muttered into his pillow, "Who's the doctor here anyway?"

Spock shook his head as he left the room. If history repeated itself, Nurse Chapel would have her hands full in the morning.

sss

McCoy woke up with a pulsing headache. He didn't know what he expected. Maybe that the mystical powers of Christmas would shield him from the massive hangover he conveniently put out of his mind while he was getting ridiculously drunk.

"It's Christmas," he muttered, "Computer, what time is it?"

"It is eight o'clock a.m.," the computer's voice rang out.

"Not so _loud_," McCoy grumbled, sliding under the covers. He tried to pretend he was only blocking out the sound, not the responsibility looming over his head.

Today was the day he confessed the truth to Beth Morris.

Eight a.m.…no doubt bubbly morning-person Morris had been up and about for a couple of hours at least. McCoy groaned into his pillow. Might as well get it over with.

The lights in the corridors were blinding. Muttering curses, McCoy passed Morris' room twice before he found the door. He must have stood there for ten minutes loathing himself.

He wasn't sure what was worse: having to admit he was a liar or pretending to be married to that pointy-eared computer. This may have been harder. Would she burst into tears? Refuse to speak to him again? Lord…would she request a _transfer_?

McCoy steeled himself. This was ridiculous. He was an adult. She was an adult. They were both adults. Two grown adults. Grown human beings. _Stop stalling and ring the damn bell, _he told himself.

He sighed and jabbed the button before he could change his mind.

In a moment, blonde curls and light blue eyes came into view. Morris wore a huge smile and an even bigger Christmas sweater that—for fuck's sake—_lit up._

"Hello!" she said brightly, "Merry Christmas, Dr. McCoy,"

"Uh…yeah, merry Christmas…" It was a little hard to focus when penguins were blinking on and off in his peripheral vision.

"What brings you here? Shouldn't you be…ya know…celebrating?"

"I think I've celebrated enough… But, ah, anyway, I came because I needed to tell you something. It's important."

Morris' expression grew somber. The penguins continued to flash.

"You see, this isn't easy to say," McCoy rambled on, "and I really wish I could undo this entire thing. My intention was never to—"

"What are you trying to say, Doctor?"

"I'm trying to say…" He grimaced in exasperation with himself. "I'm not really married. I just said I was because I didn't want to hurt your feelings," he finally spit out.

Morris stood there with a blank face for about two seconds before she burst out laughing.

McCoy just stared at her. He was so shocked he didn't even register the havoc the noise was wreaking on his head.

"Honestly, Beth, I didn't anticipate you'd take it so well," he said when she paused to take a breath.

"Oh goodness," she gasped, "You're much dumber than I thought,"

"I'm _sorry_?"

"You think I believed that story for one second? I can't believe you actually took the bait. What kind of idiot would believe that you were married to Mr. Spock?"

"The entire _ship_, apparently!" McCoy countered a little too loudly. His brain felt like it had been slam-dunked.

"And it serves you right," Morris said, hands on hips, "How dumb do you think I am? And you didn't want to hurt my feelings? I'm not some delicate little flower, Doctor. I'm a Starfleet officer. Honestly, if you weren't my superior, I'd slap you."

McCoy stood there, dumbfounded for a few seconds. "I'm…sorry,"

"No, really, thank you. You really helped me dodge a bullet. But hey, I hope you learned something from this. If anything, you've learned that the entire ship considers your marriage to Mr. Spock completely plausible. Is that indicative of something?"

McCoy felt his ears redden. "_No_. If you don't mind, I'm going to leave now, and spare what pride I have left. I apologize for underestimating you."

Morris smiled. "Apology accepted. Merry Christmas, Doctor."

sss

McCoy trudged into Sickbay. Yep, that was definitely the worst thing he'd ever done. At least the traffic in Sickbay had cleared. He could finally get rid of this stupid hangover. Except, Sickbay wasn't just uncrowded, it was empty. A note lay on one of the beds.

_Dr. McCoy,_

_ Really crowded. Had to move operation to mess hall. _

_ You drunken dumbasses._

_ -Love, Christine_

McCoy grunted a humorless laugh. It would just figure, wouldn't it? That's just the way the day was going to go. He leaned against the wall, then slowly slid down to the floor. The floor was a much better place to be. He could hide in here all day if he wanted to. Who needed anyone else on Christmas? Not him. Other people only brought pain and suffering.

He was half-asleep when the door slid open. He opened one eye. Knees. He looked higher.

"Nurse Chapel said I might find you here, on the floor. I did not anticipate she would be quite so accurate."

"_Geez_," McCoy whispered to himself, covering his face with his hands. He looked up again. "If you don't mind, I'd rather be alone right now, Spock. This Christmas isn't my best."

"Is it not supposed to be 'the most wonderful time of the year'?" Spock asked.

"Oh yeah, it's _supposed_ to."

Spock crouched on the floor next to him. "You told Lieutenant Morris the truth," he deduced.

"Yes. She knew the whole time. She played me. She's an evil genius and I'm a misogynistic ass."

"I did remind you she's a Starfleet officer."

"Yes, and I should've listened. Like I said, I'm an ass."

Spock was quiet for a moment. He cleared his throat like he was going to say something, but he fell silent when McCoy looked at him expectantly. Finally he plunged into what McCoy was sure was a speech.

"There are many things I don't understand about human culture. Most Christmas traditions evade me. However, there is one that I believe does capture the spirit of Christmas as I have come to know it," he paused, his gaze somewhere on the floor, "So the story goes, the magi brought gifts to the Christ child, whom they believed to be their savior. The fact that people give gifts to friends and family seems…significant."

McCoy blinked a few times. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying…I…I have something for you," he managed to say, producing a gift he'd been concealing on the floor behind him.

It was McCoy's turn to raise an eyebrow. "You got me a Christmas present?" he said, eyeing Spock suspiciously.

"Yes."

"Should I open it now?"

"By all means,"

McCoy peeled off the meticulously wrapped paper cautiously. He didn't know what to expect. Spock didn't get people gifts. It was completely illogical. So what does a logical being give someone for Christmas?

Well, he didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't that. McCoy bit his lip as he stared down at the gift. He tried not to laugh. He failed.

"You got me a fruitcake," he mumbled, giggling.

Spock looked almost worried. "Is that not a traditional Christmas gift?"

"Yes, it is. You did good, Spock. You did good. Thank you." Still smiling, McCoy shook his head as he set the fruitcake aside. "I just don't get it, though. Why did you do this? Why are you so hung up on favors and Christmas spirit? It's all so _illogical_."

"Illogical, yes," Spock conceded, "but not without reason. When I was young, my mother tried to celebrate Christmas a few times. Eventually she gave up. She said it was impossible to celebrate a holiday on Vulcan. After that, she always seemed sad at this time of year. I thought…" Spock trailed off. He seemed agitated, even frustrated with himself. He'd renounced a bit of logic and now he wasn't the only one who knew.

"You thought you'd see what you were missing?" McCoy finished for him.

"If you must know, yes. It was utterly foolish and illogical of me, no doubt to your great enjoyment, so if you don't mind, I'll just—"

"Did you find it?" McCoy interrupted.

Spock stopped, surprised to see that the doctor didn't seem to be reveling in his emotionalism. "What?"

"Did you find what you were missing?"

Spock just looked at him for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I believe I did," he said softly.

"You know I really don't dislike you,"

"I don't dislike you either."

McCoy smirked. "See now, that's what we get for being together so much. Now that we're not married anymore, we have to learn how to hate each other again."

"It shouldn't be difficult."

McCoy breathed a laugh. He shifted a little. "You know, when I was drunk as hell, I didn't happen so say anything…particularly embarrassing, did I?"

Spock couldn't help but notice a slight pink in the doctor's face. "Not particularly. Although I do recall you wanted to tell me something."

"And?"

"I told you to wait until your faculties had returned. It seems they have," Spock pointed out, tilting his head in anticipation.

"Well…well…" McCoy seemed a bit flustered, "It's just…well I've gotten to know you better, and…and…"

Before he could struggle to the end of his sentence, Spock covered his mouth with his own. How was that for illogical? Vulcans considered human kissing to be barbaric, and in a way it was, the way it made Spock's heart pound and his hands shake. He put his hands on McCoy's face to draw him closer.

McCoy had forgotten that Spock was a touch telepath. He remembered now. When Spock's thumb brushed his cheek there was a fluttering feeling in his chest. He reached up for Spock's hand and Spock turned it until their hands were fingertip-to-fingertip. It was an intriguing feeling. It was nice, but there was something distinctly alien about it. Something McCoy wouldn't mind doing again.

As Spock pulled away, McCoy nodded. "Yeah, basically that."

"Merry Christmas, Doctor,"

"Merry Christmas, Spock,"


End file.
